Souls Out of Time
by Second steps thE DUCK
Summary: A young Knight of Eleum Loyce is tasked by his king as the messenger between two great kingdoms, but when he returns to Eleum Lloyce with dire news, he is sent back out into the frozen wastes to begin the search for two gifted knights. Though plans don't always go as desired.
1. Prologue

The long bridge that spanned the length from the great wall to the enormous cathedral was always a sight to behold. The frost clung to the smooth stones, reflecting the distant setting sun with a gorgeous orange glow. Eleum Loyce was always a beautiful land, but it was truly breathtaking during sunset. There wasn't much time to gawk, however. Dire news from distant Forossa required the haste of the young courier-knight who now quickly marched along that long, sparkling bridge.

His boots cracked the ever present ice that perpetually built up all over the city. Hit attire fitting the hard journey between Forossa and Eleum Loyce, the Faraam Armor providing plenty of insulation from the great white expanse of the frozen tundra. The Knight passed by others of similar status, though they wore the armor more befitting those chosen few who were ranked among the Loyce knights. They nodded in respect and greeting towards one another, each recognizing the little personalization's of each other's gear, from small bits of multicolored cloth to intricate engravings in the metal.

They had all spent enough time together to recognize one another without having to remove their helmets, and it was that time spent together that prevented the two passing Loyce knights from stopping the younger Faraam Knight to talk and reunite like old friends. The younger man's quick pace and unusually stoic and straight-backed demeanour indicating that the news he brought was nothing good.

His armour was showing signs of wear, not just road wear however, for the long scratches and dents showed that his journey had not been an easy one. The two knights fell into step behind the courier, both to sate their own curiosity as to what ill tiding's the young man brought, and to provide assistance should it be needed.

They marched in silence, with nothing but the wind and the clanking of metal to accompany their suddenly tense approach. The great doors of the Cathedral opened to them once they had been spotted by another knight, who in turn signalled for the opening of the doors so as not to delay the courier. Inside, the last priestesses who remained to tidy up after the day's rituals and prayers quickly made way for the stolid knights as they entered the massive building.

Once they finally reached the throne room, all three knights knelt in a little circle facing a great gate, with the courier in the center and at the forefront of the group. After a few moments of shuffling, a regal voice called out from atop his high seat atop the very centerpiece of the room.

"Rise, my friends. And tell me what tidings come from our homeland." The Ivory King spoke, kindly but firmly, and to those that knew him, slightly fearfully.

The courier stood from his kneeling position, while his two companions remained knelt in reverence for the great king. He removed his helmet and held it at his side with his left hand, displaying his sharp features and dark hair. "I bring ill tidings my lord. Forossa has fallen to her enemies. She is nothing more than a land of bandits and mercenaries now." The courier hung his head sadly, and the reaction from the small gathering of priestesses and knights surrounding the throne was as expected. Hushed murmurs and expressions of shock vibrated throughout the throng whereas the Ivory King just nodded and hung his head as well.

A frail, pale hand landed quietly on the cold stone railing that surrounded the stairway to the throne, gripping the rock tightly to hide its trembling. The Queen Alsanna stood at the Ivory King's side as she always did, appearing as a mere sickly shade against the massive prescience of her king and husband. She spoke quietly, almost too quietly for the courier to hear her, but he managed to make out her words well enough.

"How did it happen, Sir Knight? That we may prevent it here." She looked down somberly, much like her king as she awaited his answer.

The room quieted at her words, once they had fully sunk in amongst the assembled people. They knew her insinuation, that if the great and proud Forossa could fall without the constant pressure of great evil, what chance did they have in their duties?

The knight looked up at her and smiled kindly, though it was more for the benefit of her and the other shaken members of the court than for any particularly happy news. "They were beset on all sides by traitorous and dishonourable scum for generations my good lady. Not even our great skill could save an overwhelmed country. Though it grieves me deeply to say, we are now on our own." His smile faltered for a moment, before returning with an almost religious zeal. "However, I am not afraid! For we are the greatest warriors in the land, led by the greatest king who ever lived! Not even the fires of chaos can bring us to our knees, so how could we fail?"

This brought murmurs of assent and shouts of agreement, along with the return of the indomitable spirit of the men and women of Eleum Loyce. Alsanna's own expression shifted to one slightly less fearful, almost turning into a small smile. And the Ivory King's face lit up with pride at the words displayed by the young knight.

"Well said, my friend. Though this may be a somber day, we shall take solace in our family," He looked down happily at Alsanna "And our duty." Before his gaze turned towards the back of the cathedral, were a gaping pit descended directly to the source of all of Eleum Loyce's worries and problems.

This brought a shout of agreement from the assorted men and women, and a salute from the knights situated around the room. The Ivory King turned his gaze back towards the gathering of people and spoke "Return to your families, mourn our former home and prepare for tomorrow where we will plan for the future. Knight Marcus, remain so we may speak further." With that, the Ivory King turned and awaited his Knight to ascend to the throne so that they may speak easier and without such a large crowd.

After a few moments of various people welcoming him home now that the official business had finished, Marcus shook hands with the two knights who had escorted him in, and after a few claps on the back, ascended the steps to give a more detailed account to his King.

It took many hours, and the night had long since fallen, with the clouds blocking the moon, leaving nothing but orange torchlight as light sources. The Ivory King listened intently, taking in every detail in silence. His queen, similarly, was attentive, though fatigue was obviously beginning to claim her. Marcus knew the king would have had her escorted to her room, but from the way she silently clung to his hand it was pretty easy to see that she wouldn't be going anywhere without him.

After Marcus had completed his detailed report, the Ivory King was silent for a few moments, before abruptly standing up to face the younger knight, whose gaze didn't waver from the king's own eyes. The king extended his hand, and Marcus shook it without hesitation as the King spoke once again. "You have done myself and our kingdom a great service, Marcus Antony. Be proud of yourself." This caused Marcus' eyes to widen before his face took on an expression of suppressed pride. It wouldn't do to look so undignified in the king's presence.

"I do, unfortunately have one more task for you in Forossa." The King's face dropped for a moment, unhappy with his very necessary orders, and more than a little scared. Though as to why that was, Marcus could only guess at.

"I need you to return to our homeland, and gather as many former knights as you can who would be willing to fight for Eleum Loyce. If you can, search out specifically Vengarl and Shieldless Lothian. They would be great assets in our duty." The King continued to speak, and Marcus nodded without question, though some of his disappointment at being sent away so quickly must have shown through on his face. That or the Ivory King was simply very perceptive.

"While this is a priority, spend some time with your family and your brother's before you set out into the wastes once more. You deserve that much." The Ivory King seemed like he was finished, but just was Marcus was about to disengage his hand from the King's grip, the king's hand tightened, keeping him in place.

For a moment, the usually faultless king seemed, hesitant. Before he spoke with a voice that portrayed the gravity of what he was about to say. "I have a gift for you, as a thanks for your so far less than rewarding work as our messenger to our homeland. Wait here for my return." With that, the king let go of Marcus' hand and quickly marched off towards a room adjacent to the throne room.

Marcus did as was told, and stood and waited for the king to return. His gaze turned to Alsanna, who seemed unhappy that the king wasn't close to her, though her eyes were on Marcus. "He trusts you a great deal, you know." She spoke, once again, quietly and timidly. In a way that made Marcus want to protect her, as one would protect a little sister.

He turned his full attention to her, asking a wordless question as to her meaning. Which she supplied with slight hesitancy. "He loves of you all as his brothers, as his sons. He knows each and every one of you Knights, and I can only hope that his love isn't misplaced." It was rare for her to make such a statement, or speak out of turn at all for that matter. Similarly, she didn't shrink away from the look of surprise Marcus gave her, but before he could reply, the king had returned. And with him, a small tiger cub.

"This, is Mira. She is the only of Aava's cubs to have survived our most recent blizzard. I trust you will treat her well." The Ivory King spoke, sadly, but also with pride. While also giving Marcus a searching look. He already trusted the knight, at least with being one of the few lines of information to and from Forossa. But this was more personal, he was trusting his most valued pet's only child to the knight. Leaving Marcus speechless, as he dumbly nodded his head at the king.

Mira was a small tiger cub, with white fur and black stripes, perfect for the frozen tundra. Her canines were elongated, displaying that she was a sabretooth Tiger, bearing a clear resemblance to the Great Aava. Marcus had no real experience with animals, but he had spent enough time in Forossa to learn the customs when meeting lions, so he reverted to those rules.

He knelt down and extended his hand in respect for the small big-cat, and waited for her to decide to approach him. After a few moments, he felt a little foolish, almost as if he was treating the magnificent animal like a dog. He was about to stand up, when the tiger cub nuzzled her head into the palm of his hand. He smiled giddily, and was so entranced by the small animal that he didn't notice the dual emotions of happiness and deep despair flash across the Ivory King's features.

"Good, now go. I'm sure you are eager to reunite with family and friends alike." The King gave Marcus a kind smile, and gestured to the door. Marcus stood up, saluted and did as commanded. Glancing over his shoulder every other step to make sure Mira was keeping pace with him, which she easily was.

Days later, after he had spent time revelling with his friends, and retelling stories to his mother and his baby sister, he prepared to set out into the frozen wastes once again bound for Forossa. This time with a companion. There was something that bothered him however, whenever he would meet with the king, whether to discuss his journey or just to visit with the always kind man, there was always something lingering in the corner of the room. Nothing tangible, but something that made their conversation's feel strange, off. As if the King's attention wasn't entirely on the subject at hand, like it usually was.

Marcus, however, could do nothing about it beyond praying for his King and his country. Before he set off once again into the wastes. His armor was repaired, all the wear and tear removed and extra padding added on at Marcus' request. He brought extra supplies, including cloth and blankets for Mira. His longsword and shield were strapped to his hip and back respectively

The walk would only get easier once he was out of the snow, so he set off at a brisk pace, carrying the small tiger cub in his arms as he walked. It wasn't for several days until the monotony was broken. An arrow struck the gap between his neck and his armor, striking directly into his collar bone as more arrows came flying out of the snow. He shielded Mira with his body, as arrows began to stick out of him like a pincushion, before he finally staggered to the ground and collapsing into the snow.

He had so little time to process the surprise attack that he forgot to let out a cry of pain. That was the last thought that went through his mind as he curled up into the fetal position to protect Mira, before falling unconscious. The wind was picking up, and then, in a flash, the world seemed frozen in ice.

 ***CRACK***

With a whir, the ice shattered, and a strange metal object started grinding into the metal breastplate of Marcus. It spun with an immeasurable speed, before it was suddenly removed and replaced by some kind of voice.

"Hey I found something!"

Minutes went by as the ice was steadily chipped away, and soon, all onlookers gasped at the object buried in the ice, hundreds of feet from the surface. The body of a man, frozen in time that was just now beginning to start leaking blood.

A nearby woman did something by what she described as reflex, and reached down to check his pulse, agitating the arrow in his collarbone. His body shifted, and everyone surrounding him resumed the shocked expression of those completely unprepared for this kind of situation. The woman however, seemed better in crisis situations than the others, as she quickly recovered and called out "Hey! He's still alive! Get a stretcher and a medical team ASAP!" She looked around as no one moved, making her sigh in frustration as she slapped the nearest person, which apparently kick-started the entire group, as they rushed to do as told.

As he was being moved, the shivering of another being became apparent, as the medical team put the strange man on a stretcher, uncovering his chest, revealing a house cat sized ball of fur, that weakly growled at the onlookers, but didn't seem to have the energy to do much else.

As they quickly ascended the tunnel, a voice called out "Specialist Schnee! What happened?!" To which the woman replied with an almost disbelieving voice "We found two things alive General! A man and a… Cat?"

"I don't appreciate games Schnee, what's really happening?" She didn't get a chance to reply, as the elevator to the surface stopped and the door opened, and the now revealed General stepped away from a nearby microphone, only to stop and gape, much like everyone else around. Thankfully, the medical team had had enough of their surprise and practically screamed at them to move. Which they did, clearing the way to the nearest sickbay.

Winter Schnee cautiously walked towards General Ironwood before speaking. "You know I don't joke about the job General." She let her words sink in, as the General's mind started going into overdrive. "What are we going to do with him sir?" She asked, but the General only shook his head.

 **Alrighty then, so Authors note, huh? Well here we go.**

 **This is my first story, for those who aren't aware. I'm unsure whether or not I'll continue to update it as time goes on, but right now I'm certainly going to try. I've got no real direction in mind for the story, at least in terms of end goal. For now I'm simply looking to refine my writing skill for perhaps writing a book one day.**

 **So, if you think you can critique this, go right ahead, I could use the help.**

 **I loved Eleum Loyce when I played through DS2, (which is my favorite souls game, please don't hit me.) And I hope I portrayed its society well enough in this small tidbit. I didn't want to write too much about it, as a lot of it is undefined, thanks to dark souls' intentionally vague storytelling. If it comes down to it, I'll be taking some liberties with the lore of Dark souls, so be aware that my version might not be what is universally accepted as cannon.**

 **Another thing to be aware of, Marcus Antony (Yes, I named him after the Roman General) isn't undead. Not yet anyway. I'm not going to rule out the possibility of him getting cursed later on, but for now, he is a regular ol' humie.**

 **If you made it this far, thanks for reading. Hope you stick with it, should it continue on.**


	2. Rising (1)

"What's the situation Schnee?" General James Ironwood asked, lacking his usual authoritative tone which seemed to have been replaced by curiosity. The same kind of excitement that one would expect of finding something extraordinary.

"We don't know sir." Specialist Winter Schnee replied, with equal candor. "The fact that he is alive is mind boggling, the speed at which they must have frozen is beyond anything we have ever seen. It's an effect I highly doubt we will be able to reproduce." She tapped a few buttons on a nearby terminal, which brought up rows of text displaying all the available information on the strange knight and his tiger cub.

"We did some dating on his armor, and while it must be some kind of mistake, our initial results place it as brand new. Which of course can't be right because the depth we found him at meant that the ice was easily several hundred years old!" Winter's voice was one of equal frustration and the suddenly unknowable mystery, and excitement about what this could mean for the history of Remnant.

She caught herself before she started speaking again, reigning in her emotions in order to return to a more professional tone. "We found no traces of Dust on him or his gear. But there were other substances that we don't recognize that seem to act in a similar manner." She tapped a few more buttons on the terminal and it switched from rows of information to a video feed that allowed the two Atlesian officers to watch the doctor's operate on the injured man.

The doctors hovered over him, carefully extracting the numerous long arrow shafts that stuck out of the poor knight one by one. A breathing tube was stuck down his throat, pumping air into his lungs. Everyone else in the room was in sealed environment suits, as a precaution against any ancient diseases that may have laid dormant within the man. The Tiger cub sat at the head of the operating table, nuzzling and licking at the man's hair in an attempt to get him to wake up. Occasionally it would hiss and growl at the doctors if they got too close, but thankfully none had the misfortune to be on the receiving end of a bite from the feline's large canines.

Even with the anesthetic, the man's body occasionally shifted in pain, should one of the doctors accidentally become too forceful with their operations.

"When do you think he will wake up?" The General asked, wincing as one of the doctors removed one the final arrow shafts from his body, prompting another shift from the man.

"It's uncertain, sir. We don't know if he will ever wake up, we don't know how his stay in the ice affected his mind or his body. His muscles seem to work fine, but the brain is an entirely different matter. We know there is activity, we just don't know where it will go from there." Winter replied, hopeful but still realistic. She wanted him to wake up, but she wasn't going to pretend that it was a likely possibility. "If he does wake up sir, what are we going to do with him?" She asked once again. And the General just shook his head like last time.

"Let's make sure he wakes up first before we decide on anything, Specialist." The General murmured. He was hopeful that he would wake, after all, the tiger seemed to be just fine. And believing in the doom and gloom wouldn't get them anywhere.

The doctors finally finished their operation, having just removed the last of the stray arrowheads or other miscellaneous items. They moved away from him, confident that he was stable enough not to die if they moved him to another room to be monitored.

"Keep me posted Schnee. I've got some business to attend too." The General spoke quickly. Clearly unhappy that he wouldn't be around to monitor one of the most important discoveries of the decade. He did however, trust Winter Schnee with the proper handling of the situation, and so as much as it rankled him to leave, he knew the iceman and his cat were in good hands.

The Specialist nodded, and the General left without another word. Leaving Winter to sit down to once again review what she knew about the man and his tiger. It was convenient that's he was found where he was. It was a hell of a coincidence that he was there, but considering his circumstances, she was willing to let slide the fact that he was exactly on the spot where the General had planned to create a new weapons research lab.

She could only wonder how long they would have stayed in the ice had they simply decided to move the location a few meters over. They were an incredibly lucky find, and she supposed that she should simply be happy that they _were_ actually found.

She moved over to a nearby table, which was wear his gear had been haphazardly left as the doctors rushed the man into surgery. The most notable objects weren't his weaponry. While the sword and shield were obviously of quality craftsmanship, and beautiful in their own right, it was the armour that really stood out. The most obvious being the helmet, which had the depiction of a battle above its visor.

The Cloth attached to the chainmail was of high-quality as well, with the greenish-blue against white designs that ran along the border creating an almost regal feeling. The Fur and extra padding gave the impression that it was designed for cooler climates, which wasn't all that surprising considering where the man had been found.

Winter meticulously wrote down every detail about the armor and weaponry, speculating on their origins and what the designs meant. She swung the sword around, testing it more out of curiosity than for any real important reason. She found it to be somewhat underwhelming, for it was genuinely a simple longsword, albeit perfectly crafted and balanced.

A beep sounded from a machine, and one of the exhausted doctors moved to check it. He let out a disbelieving scoff before he turned to Winter just as she was putting down the sword, before saying "Ma'am, blood test it done. There is no danger." He hesitated for a few moments, an action which the Specialist noticed, and gestured for him to continue. "Ma'am he is simply impossible. There are no traces of viral infection, none. That means he has never been exposed to a virus before in his life. And as strange as that is, it gets weirder. There are numerous toxins present inside his body that is concurrent with chemicals attributed to modern day venomous snakes, AND he seems to have been exposed to modern day chemical weaponry. None of this is dangerous to us, or to him, but it does bring up plenty of questions." The Doctor looked frustrated with himself for a few moments, before continuing to speak "I'll run the tests again, but I highly doubt it will be any different. So the bottom line is, he is perfectly safe for us to be around, and thanks to some other outside influences, he shouldn't have any problems with any of our germs."

Winter nodded numbly. The day would seemingly only get more confusing from here. But before she could reply to the doctor, numerous other machines began wailing and beeping, keening alarms as the various medical staff began rushing into the monitoring room. Winter turned to the doctor who had just spoken to her, asking with a look as to what was going on.

"He's waking up!" He spoke excitedly, all previous ideas of exhaustion and frustration gone from his face as he quickly made his way to the door to the man's room.

"So soon?!" Winter called after him, jogging slightly to keep up.

"It's been four hours Ma'am, the anesthetic should have worn off at least an hour ago!" The Doctor called back, now practically sprinting down the hall.

Winter checked her scroll, making sure it had in fact been four hours like the doctor had said, and as he had said, had in fact been four hours. Goes to show what happens when you become so focused on one thing. Winter did not run. As much as she would have liked to have been one of the first people to speak to the man, she had a certain image to present, and so satisfied herself with a brisk walk.

They didn't have the time to move the man to an actual hospital, so they had to keep him on-site with an underprepared medical team. So it was a minor miracle that they had managed to get him stable. And as much as they may have wanted to move him to proper facilities, they had to maintain operational security on the new facility, regardless of what they found. It was a tough choice, but it seemed everything was working out just fine.

When Marcus slowly regained consciousness, he was surprised at the lack of pain. The lack of any real feeling really. However, it made sense, considering he was dead. Or at least, he thought he was.

He laboriously opened his right eye, only to be blinded by bright white light, causing him to flinch away and close his eye once again. Slowly, he fluttered his eyes open, to take in his surroundings. He was at first, happy to see Mira resting on his chest, purring happily, as if she knew he was waking up.

His eyes groggily flitted around the room, which was empty of other people, but filled with strange instruments, ranging from tubes to knives. He didn't expect meeting Faraam to take place in a setting like this, but then he supposed he probably hadn't earned the right to meet him. He had died without his sword in hand after all, and to cowards who fought from range no less. The thought made him want to cry, but his body felt too tired for that kind of emotion. He could just barely raise his hand off the soft cushion he laid upon, let alone break down into sobs like his irrational brain wanted too.

He very slowly moved his right hand to touch the tiny tiger on his chest, taking comfort that he had at least some companionship in the afterlife. Though he did regret that he couldn't protect her like had intended. His king would not be pleased when he inevitably joined him in the afterlife.

He looked down at his arm, and saw some kind of strange tube attached to it. Which he followed until it reached some kind of clear bag. He squinted, wondering at what kind of contraption this was, but was interrupted when the door to the room opened wide, spewing forth a number of people.

They moved around him like bees, talking strangely and animatedly, leaving Marcus with a quizzical look as he watched them move. This was certainly a strange afterlife. He tried to open his mouth to speak, but found himself unable to do so, instead sounding more like a croak.

Some of the people evidently heard the croak, as they turned to look at the Marcus in surprise. A pretty woman with white hair pushed through the throng, holding a small vessel of water in her left hand. She too, seemed at a loss as to what to do, so she simply held the vessel out for Marcus to take.

He tried, most certainly. He managed to move his arm off of the bed, where it simply flopped at an awkward angle, making him wince in sudden pain. Marcus and the white haired woman shared apologetic looks, before the woman moved the vessel to his lips and tipped it forward, allowing him to drink. Marcus sipped at it for a moment, thankful for the cold water that slid down his throat.

Some of the other people in the room started moving once again, slowly disconnecting various tubes and strings from Marcus' body, before connecting different ones in or around the same spots. He hardly felt any of it happening however, for he still felt unnaturally numb.

He tilted his head back, letting the woman pull back the cup, before he tried speaking again. "W-who…" He could barely get the word out he was so tired. And he could feel his consciousness slipping back into dreamless sleep.

He did see another round of shocked expressions circulate throughout the room, but the woman merely smiled slightly, and spoke "Winter Schn…" Her voice trailed off, as it echoed down the tunnel that was Marcus' fading lucidity.

"Winter Schnee" Winter spoke, happy to be the first person the man spoke to when he woke up. If for no other reason than for bragging rights. She saw a small smile on his face as he mumbled something, but it was easy to tell that he was no longer present.

"Alright everyone, I want to be notified the second he wakes up again! Keep him under watch, and try and ween him off of the morphine." Without another word she strode out of the room while she reached into her pocket for her scroll once again. She found General Ironwood's contact information, and quickly gave him a call.

After two rings, the connection was established, but before Winter could get a word out, the General spoke first. "Is he awake?" The General was excited, but subdued, signifying to Winter that he needed to return to something quickly.

"No Sir, but he did wake up briefly. He seemed to speak our language, I could at least make out the word 'Who' from him, though he didn't say anything else. I replied with my name." Winter spoke quickly, so as not to take up the general's time, while she also hoped she hadn't overstepped herself by talking to the man.

The General didn't waste any time lingering on that subject, instead replying "Good job Specialist, keep me updated. If he wakes up again, try and get some information out of him." And with that, the General hung up, no doubt to prepare some kind of statement about what they had found in the ice. Winter didn't envy his position, he had to explain why they were digging where they were without revealing any incriminating secrets.

After she was finished with the call, she went about moving the man's gear to his observation room, just in case he gets any ideas that he was being held captive. She frowned at the thought, she really didn't know whether or not he was being held captive or not, she couldn't just let him leave, but she didn't have any valid reason to legitimately detain him.

She pushed the thought from her mind, just as she pushed the rolling cart she transferred his gear to, down the hall.

Over the next several hours, the man transitioned in and out of consciousness, never long enough to start any real conversation or interrogation. It was frustrating, but as time went on and the various drugs afflicting his system slowly wore off, he became more and more awake.

He was still weak of course, but his eyes were clear and his movements were easier. When he had initially spotted his gear, he had attempted to get out of bed, which was surprisingly successful for a few moments before he agitated his wounds and he collapsed onto the cold floor. He did manage to get a grip on his sword, thankfully. And regardless of the amount of drugs in his body at that moment, he was sure he would never let it go again.

When the doctors found him on the floor, they seemed to be in a panic, much to his confusion as he tried once again to stand. Instead, he was hoisted back into bed, sword in hand, as he gave each doctor strange looks of confusion, which were returned in kind by the doctors, not understanding how he could be moving at all.

The cat simply looked curiously between her companion and the doctors, swishing its tail side to side.

Winter had taken intermittent naps throughout the rest of the day, she gave orders to be awakened whenever the man woke up. And while it was frustrating not being able to get a good rest, she was more than willing to surrender that luxury so that she could get more information out of him.

She entered the room once again, surprised to see the man sitting up on his bed, gripping his sword and becoming increasingly agitated with the doctors. She hadn't managed to get more than a few words exchanged between herself and the man before he surrendered himself to sleep, she hadn't even thought to ask his name. So she was noticeably happier now that he seemed full awake and aware.

She waved away the doctors, allowing only those necessary to the man's wellbeing to stay as she pulled a chair over to the bed, before sitting down and offering another cup of water. The man accepted with a nod, and quickly finished the drink before lowering his hand from his mouth, and turning his gaze to lock eyes with Winter's.

His eyes were a frosty blue, but as he smiled they lit up, removing any pretense of the man being predisposed to being unfriendly. Winter had to work to match the man's expression, while she didn't consider herself to be the 'Ice Queen' everyone thought her to be, she did recognize that she had a certain 'presence that might not be particularly conducive to welcoming someone back to life.

Before she had a chance to speak, he beat her to the punch. "Winter? I didn't hear your last name." He spoke with a smile, and his voice was equally friendly while being tinged with an accent she didn't recognize.

She inclined her head in response and replied "I am Specialist Winter Schnee, I don't think we managed to get to your name yet." She tried to match his friendly tone, however, she wasn't exactly practiced at this form of diplomacy, so she figured it came out mildly strained.

The man frowned, though it seemed to be more out of confusion than any unhappiness with Winter herself. "It is a strange afterlife that angels cannot recognize the names of the dead." Had Winter been any lesser person she might have blushed at the comment, but she had more self-control than that. He continued, "If you truly don't know, I am Marcus Antony of Eleum Loyce, Knight in service to the Ivory King. Now, tell me, kind angel. What becomes of my kingdom?"

Winter raised her eyebrow at his comments, though she wasn't as surprised as she thought she would have been. The man had just woken up in a very strange place after freezing for a very long time. "Marcus, you are not dead. You have never died." She smirked slightly "And I am no angel."

A variety of emotions flew across Marcus' face, fear, surprise, anger, confusion until finally he settled on hesitant happiness. It quickly went back to confusion as he looked Winter up and down, before stopping himself and returning his eyes to Winter's own.

"Forgive me, my lady. This is a lot to take in. You are certain that I am not dead? Then how is it I came to this," He looked around the room "Strange place?"

Winter went to reply, however before she could do so, the door opened behind her and General Ironwood strode into the room, nodding to both the Specialist and the Knight, as he too grabbed a chair to sit down.

 **Alrighty, Authors note once again.**

 **So I've been writing these at like 4 in the morning, and against my better judgment I'm not really proofreading them, just a heads-up.**

 **Another warning, I'm toying around with the idea of switching points of view to experiment with it so I can see how I prefer to write my stories. So don't act all surprised if it suddenly switches to first person, then third person, or change from there.**

 **Once again, thanks for reading. Please Review, even if it's just a "looks good dude, keep at it." It definitely helps. If you have any suggestions for the story, I'm all ears.**

 **Don't expect updates to be consistent, they will be sporadic as I get the inspiration to write, sorry for that.**


	3. A Light In The Black (2)

Marcus' eyes followed the General as he sat down, offering a hesitant nod in return to the tall well-dressed man. While he was awake, he still felt there was a fog covering his mind. It was clearing, but that was both a blessing and a curse.

While he was able to think more clearly, his inhibitions, training and habits were returning as well. The paranoia of a man waking in a strange place with strange people was very quickly settling over his heart. He knew that he was at their mercy, and that didn't sit well with him. His right hand held his sword in place as it rested against his right shoulder, with the palm of his hand resting just below the hilt of the sword, sitting on cold Titanite reinforced steel. His left hand slowly curled protectively around Mira, which seemed either oblivious to Marcus' change it emotion, or she happened to trust these people more than he did at the current moment.

His eyes scanned the General, first stopping at the metal plate in the side of his head. Marcus had seen many strange things in his life, so he simply chalked it up to another anomaly in the world. The General was obviously a man of pride, someone who demanded respect, not unlike the Ivory King.

Marcus' gaze flitted between Winter and the General, while his index finger tapped incessantly against the cold steel of his sword. None really knew how to proceed from here, as it was clear that Winter was going to allow the General to take over the conversation, though he didn't have any better idea than her about where to start.

While knights of Forossa and by proxy Eleum Loyce were certainly the greatest warriors to ever grace any land. That didn't make them uncivilized. They were no Knights of Mirrah, but they understood etiquette and procedure.

"I am Marcus Antony," Marcus inclined his head towards the General, before continuing with a light smile, "I don't suppose either of you two know where to start do you? Because I'm not too sure myself." It was a weak ice-breaker, but it had the desired effect on the two Atlas soldiers.

The General smirked and said "I'm General James Ironwood. Pleasure to meet you." The man held out his hand, which Marcus took and shook with a nod, feeling a bit better about his situation now that he knew both of the soldier's names.

The general continued speaking with a mix of relaxed authority and schoolyard excitement, "Before we get any further Marcus, I think it would be best to be perfectly straight with you about your situation, does that sound good to you?" Marcus nodded, still paranoid about any trickery but happy that there was at least the potential for honesty.

"About sixteen hours ago, we found you and you're… Cat?" He gestured to Mira, "Buried under several hundred feet of ice. It was as if you were completely frozen in time! We rushed you here for immediate surgery, as you were afflicted by numerous arrow wounds, though you were also suspiciously lacking in any symptoms one would expect of someone frozen under ice for an indeterminate amount of time. No oxygen deprivation, no crystallization in your blood or brain, hell there wasn't even a heat difference between you and anyone else here. So before we even begin to decipher who you are, where you are from, or even before we get to where it is you are, I want to know how any of this is possible."

Marcus remained calm and composed, though many of the words the general used went largely over his head, he managed to gather that the questions he prevented were of some importance to them, and so he simply answered as honestly and as clearly as possible.

"I don't know." Both Winter and Ironwood frowned at the answer, though they didn't seem too surprised considering how he was initially brought in for treatment. "I'll recap for you what I remember before waking up, so we can try and find the answer." Both Winter and the General nodded, and Winter began tapping on some strange plaque as Marcus began to speak.

"I was travelling between my kingdom known as Eleum Loyce, and my homeland of Forossa. The wind was picking up, making conditions particularly troublesome to push through. A blizzard was picking up to be sure. I marched on, as I had done many times before, before I was suddenly struck by an arrow right here," He poked at the spot on his collarbone where the arrow had dug itself a home, "Many more hailed down upon me, so I simply turned my body away from my cowardly assailants so that I may better guard Mira." He gestured to the titular tiger, "And from there, I felt my self falling further into unconsciousness, but not before the world seemed to freeze. I had simply assumed that it was what death was like."

Marcus looked somber for a moment, before his eyes lit up once again and he reconnected them with Winter's own gaze. "And after that, I woke up here, in your… hospital." He smiled, "While it was certainly strange, as lady Winter can attest, I thought I was dead. I must say that I much prefer living to dying."

Both the General and his subordinate seemed unhappy with the answer but accepted it all the same. They were simply angry at the lack of information than with Marcus himself.

"I can only assume it was divine magic that preserved me, though for what purpose I do not know." Marcus muttered to himself, though he did notice that both Winter and Ironwood seemed… skeptical to say the least.

This caused some confusion for the Knight, but he wasn't about to question them just yet. Magic was a topic that could be broached at a different time, they might merely believe him to be superstitious, or have a different name for the wondrous arts.

The general nodded, seemingly willing to accept the answer at face value, though still obviously unhappy about it. "I understand, now we may move onto subjects potentially more important. Such as, where is Eleum Loyce?"

Marcus' eyes narrowed, but didn't see any reason to hide the location of the beautiful land as it was already well known to the people of his land. Though the fact that the General didn't know where it was disconcerting. "Do you perhaps have a map?" He asked, expecting them to retrieve well used parchment scrolls or some such object. He was most certainly not expecting Winter to turn her strange plaque around, were it clearly displayed an image.

Marcus blinked, and then looked questioningly at Winter, who only gave him a small smile. He sighed minutely, before his eyes scanned the strange device's projection. What he found didn't particularly give him any confidence in his situation, unfortunately.

"This cannot be right. I don't mean to insult either of you, however I do not recognise any of the lands indicated on your 'map.' Not even the actual landmasses." This caused a stir of incredulity between the two soldiers. Which Marcus paid no mind to. If they decided to disbelieve him, that wasn't his problem.

"If this is truly a map of your kingdoms, where are we?" He asked monotony. The magnitude of his situation slowly sinking into his bones.

Winter helpfully tapped the topmost continent, and launched into a rough description of Atlas. Covering the basics of their society and the technology they possessed. Marcus simply thought that this 'dust' must have been their word for magic. Strange, considering that his word for dust meant minute flakes of skin and hair.

The General let Winter give Marcus a brief rundown of the situation he had now found himself it, before taking back control of the conversation. "Right, well let's come back to you. What was Eleum Loyce like? You said that it was your country, but not your homeland? Why the distinction?"

"Marcus nodded, seeing no more reason to hold back information from the man. "Eleum Loyce was originally a province of great Forossa. Forossa was a wondrous empire, though it was beset on all sides by traitors, thieves and scum alike. This eventually caused its downfall. Eleum Loyce, was founded by the great Ivory King and it served a dual purpose. It was both sanctuary and prison. It was built to contain and appease the Chaos Flame, a pale reproduction of the first flame, but infinitely more dangerous. It couldn't be contained, only appeased, and the demons it produced required cleansing so our lord sought to create a way to stop it's spread of evil. He was Forossa's greatest warrior, and the best man I have ever known. He had several pets, of which, Mira is the daughter of the great Aava. Aava was the king's personal guardian, and he entrusted me with Mira as a thanks for my service as a messenger between the two distant states."

Marcus stopped to take a sip of water, before his finger resumed tapping against the steel of his sword. "Forossa split, then split again until it consisted of nothing more than bandits and mercenaries. I had to fight my way back to Eleum Loyce, as the roads were fraught with desperate bandits, weak men and women preying on even weaker men and women." Marcus sneered, showing his distaste for the people in question via his expression.

"I had just returned to Eleum Loyce to inform my king of these dire events, when he entrusted me with Mira. He once again bade me return to Forossa, that I may gather some knights who still held honour, so that they may join us in our vigil against the Chaos Flame. That was when I was attacked." Marcus looked pensive for a moment, before speaking once again, "There was something off, however. My king seemed, fearful. He was of course, a man, a man nonetheless who held the weight of a kingdom on his shoulders. But this seemed, deeper. Mayhap it was he who froze me, sensing the danger of my journey? He was a great sorcerer. I wouldn't put such a feat past him."

Again, Winter and Ironwood seemed skeptical, a fact Marcus once again ignored. He needn't explain the workings of world to folk who would refuse to believe in it. Their 'dust' was probably a simple parlor trick.

"What are you going to do with me?" Marcus mumbled, looking forlorn and frightened. Very clearly understanding his own predicament. The two soldiers almost missed the words, but from his expression the message was given clear enough.

Winter looked to the general, her eyes giving the impression that she had been thinking the same question. Ironwood just sighed heavily, before speaking. "For once, I'm not afraid to admit that I don't know. I do know that you are a major asset, at least to the History of Remnant. Our recorded history only reaches back maybe a century or two. But assuming that you truly are from this world and that you weren't 'magicked' here by some cosmic force, you have enough knowledge, even if it is simply peripheral, that we can begin entirely new research efforts. That is of course, if you would be willing to be questioned about yourself and your time, in detail." The general looked hesitant, which wasn't an emotion that she saw very often the man's face. "If it were up to me, I'd keep you close. Close enough so that we may keep an eye on you, for security reasons of course, and close enough to ensure your safety and introduce you to the world. I don't want to force a decision on you, as you said, none of us have any real idea how to carry on from here. But you don't technically fall under anyone's legal jurisdiction."

Marcus nodded for a few moments before pursing his lips and looking back at the two soldiers. "If it would be alright, I'd like to make a decision at a later time. This information isn't something I can really process quickly, I hope you understand." Both Winter and Ironwood nodded. Before Ironwood stands up, closely followed by Winter.

"We do, take all the time you need. If you need either of us, just ask one of the doctors." With that, Ironwood made his way out of the room. Winter gave Marcus a pitying look, which he replied with a quickly slapped on smile. Though it simply hid the emotions Marcus was actually having. Winter soon followed the General without another word.

Once they were out of sight, and the last doctors had cleared out of the room. Marcus slumped in his bed exhausted. He looked down at Mira, who cuddled up against him as he softly stroked her behind the ears. Slowly, he got out of bed, wincing as his wounds started flaring up once again, but not stopping for something as trivial as pain. He crossed the room once again to his armour, and lifted up his helmet before returning to his assigned bed.

He merely stared into the visor of the metal, letting the emotions of the day sink into his mind. He leaned his head forward, until his forehead was touching against the cold metal of the helmet, before finally beginning to surrender to his initial urge to cry. Breaking down into hushed sobs in the suddenly deathly quiet room.

In the other room, Winter and Ironwood watched him on a monitor before Winter sighed and shut it off. "Really general, what are we going to do? I highly doubt we can just let him go, he has nowhere to go and we can't keep him here if he wants to leave." Winter gave the general a questioning look.

Ironwood sighed once again, as he too had come to the same conclusion. Things kept getting stranger and stranger in the world. First Ozpin explained to him about Salem and the maidens, and now this. Ozpin always seemed to have an answer for these kinds of strange situations, a thought which only made the general more frustrated.

"Schnee, you graduated from the academy two years ago, correct?" Ironwood asked, and Winter nodded. "Why did you join?" Winter narrowed her eyes before dropping her gaze slightly.

"You know why sir." Winter deadpanned, making the general wince, momentarily forgetting about her overbearing parentage. He nodded, and shot her a minute apologetic look, which she accepted with an equally minute nod.

"Most joined up for purpose, so perhaps I'll recommend he join our military. That way we can keep an eye on him, he gets security and things to do, and the ability to learn about our world." The more Ironwood talked about it, the more he was warming up to the idea. And it seemed Winter's thought process had caught up to his as well.

"We also have access to his knowledge, and he will have something to work for." Winter spoke, and then nodded to herself, happy with their answer. Though they both knew the plan would implode if Marcus refused the offer.

Hours later, once Marcus had calmed down and let the emotional roller-coaster wind down, he finally began thinking about what he was going to do. He felt lost, his mission had long since failed. Unless the same magic that had saved him had taken effect on the two legendary warriors, he highly doubted he could accomplish his mission. Especially considering he didn't even know where he was in relation to his home.

A rumble resounded elsewhere in the facility, an anomaly Marcus paid no mind to. He assumed that it was simply something from this strange new time. He took greater notice when once again, a rumble flowed throughout the facility. This time angrier and more intense than the last. He heard boots slam against the floor outside the door, making him get out of bed. It was the third and most intense rumble that cause him to get moving. He was across the room in a second, all thoughts of pain left at the recovery bed.

First he shed the hospital garb he had been dressed in, standing fully nude in the room as he began preparing his armour. He undid the clasps on the connecting leather, allowing him to step into the padded trousers, before stepping into his boots. He next undid his breastplate, strapping the chest padding over his chest before placing the breastplate awkwardly back onto his shoulders. He secured his armour in place, with the shoulder guards and elbow guards coming with the padded jacket worn under the breastplate needing no adjustment. He pulled on the rough leather gloves just as the door opened behind him.

On reflex, he reached for his sword, which he had leaned against the cart that held his gear as he got himself equipped. He spun around, and saw Winter standing in the doorway. Words weren't exchanged, but by the look on Winter's face, it was easy to understand the situation. Something had attacked the facility, and she was required to remove him from the area for his safety. Marcus had often done the same for the average citizen whenever one of the cursed undead went hollow.

Marcus turned his head back to the last two items on his cart, his helmet and his shield. He picked up his helmet and slid it onto his head, before strapping it in place with a thick leather strap. Finally, he picked up his shield, which he placed on his back. He slid his sword into its sheath before finally turning around to look at Winter.

He knew the full armour made him look imposing, but he was happy to see that Winter wasn't visually affected by him when he wore it. It spoke well of her training. With his left hand, he absentmindedly traced a gouge in his right gauntlet, a scar that was created by one of the arrows that had originally felled him. He didn't intend to meet that fate a second time, but he was happy his armour had done its job in protecting him.

"Winter, what's the problem?" Marcus asked, his voice tinny and muffled from inside his helmet. His visor didn't allow her to see his face, leaving only a vaguely black slit where his eyes and mouth should have been.

"Terrorists. An extremist group called the White fang. How they know about this place I'm not sure, but we have to get you out of here." Winter spoke, glancing out towards the hall as if anticipating enemies to come charging down in a blood craze.

Marcus frowned, but he knew Winter couldn't see the expression. He vocalised his thoughts. "Terrorists," He scoffed "Such lowly scum would never be able to harm me. Show me to them." Winter looked like she was about to argue, before Marcus stopped her with a raised finger. "Your men fight to protect this location, they might die defending me." He knew that he wasn't the only thing that the brave soldiers at this location were defending, but it served his purposes to point it out. "I'll not have men die for me if I cannot fight on the same field of battle as them!"

He made to move past her, but she put a hand on his arm making him turn around, "They all know their jobs, you are simply too valuable to lose. Would your Ivory King rush into danger or would he think of this tactically! Realise that he was a more valuable target, and then retreat so that he may deny his enemy their prize?" Winter evidently thought she knew enough about nobility and monarchy to make an accusation like that. She unfortunately chose the incorrect king.

"My king built his throne atop the very mouth of Hell! So that he may act as our first line of defense against any and all evil! Step aside woman, and allow me to show you the prowess of a Knight of Eleum Loyce." Mira gave a little roar of agreement, and managed to scramble up Marcus' leg to then sit on his shoulders, where he turned his head and smirked at her. With that, he once again tried to push past Winter. However, her grip remained, and no matter how hard he tried to pull away, Winter remained intently locked onto his arm.

He wasn't angry, but she was beginning to insult him. His left hand ignited in fire, causing Winter's eyes to widen, though not as much as Marcus expected. He slowly moved his and up to Winter's arm, giving her ample time to remove herself before he burnt her. She seemed to think about the merits of such a decision, and wisely removed her hand from Marcus' arm.

"Your injured Marcus, reconsider this course of action." Winter spoke, angrily bringing to bear her full authoritative personality on him. He almost wanted to submit to her will out of reflex, but after following the Ivory King, none ever seemed as impressive.

Marcus left without another word, moving to were the noises of fighting were coming from. It brought him to a large open room, filled with giant metal carriages that reminded him of the golems on the wall. He surveyed the room for a few moments, determining who was friend and who was foe. Easily picking out the facilities staff, along with their strange automaton golems, and the assaulting White Fang.

Proudly, he unsheathed his sword and raised it up to the sky. He brought his pyromancy flame to its hilt, before passing it over the blade, wreathing the weapon in fire. He was about to move into the fray and attempt to rally the defending Atlas forces, when he was struck with the power of lightning in the right shoulder, just below the pauldron and knocking him to the ground. He looked over at the now oozing wound, expecting to see an arrow sticking out. Instead he saw simply saw a growing red splotch on his padded jacket.

Sorcery then.

He reached with his free hand, dismissing the pyromancy flame before agonizingly gripping the shield off of his back. With that, he charged. He felt several more strikes dent his armour, but none penetrated the titanite reinforced metal. Marcus quickly prayed to Faraam as he collided with an enemy assailant. The White Fang, seemed foolish enemies to him. They wore simple winter garb, no armour to speak of. When he struck his opponent, he turned away, expecting his charge to have broken several bones effectively removing the man from the fight.

Instead, a few moments later as he surveyed the battlefield for another opponent, he was once again struck. He felt the crushing power of a mace drive itself into his hamstring. It was, thankfully, a glancing blow brought on by inexperience and adrenaline. Marcus staggered, turned, and relentlessly battered away at the poor man's defense. Marcus' assault was endless, he took little pauses, and those he did, he constantly hid behind his shield. His sword should have killed the White Fang member five times over already, and yet he still stood, nary a scratch on him.

Frustrated, Marcus rushed forward, attempting to bait out an attack from the evidently inexperience soldier. He was rewarded for his efforts, as the other man gave another wild swing of his mace. Almost in the blink of an eye, Marcus brought his shield up and batted away the man's attack, opening his guard for Marcus' riposte. Marcus stepped forward into the man's guard, used his right leg to sweep him off his feet, before continuing his step to place his left foot on the man's chest, pinning him in place. He quickly dropped his shield, and gripped his sword with two hands before pointing it towards the other man's frightened face and plunging it forward into his mouth.

Marcus was confident that there was no armour inside the man's mouth, but even through his opponent's strangled screams, it took a suspiciously long time for him to die. Yet, die he did. No matter the magic being used upon him, he couldn't withstand something as brutally effective as a flaming sword through the throat.

Marcus retrieved his sword and shield without a second thought, before wading into the fray once again. Occasionally he would be struck by their vile invisible sorceries, and he would curse their cowardice. He was happy to see that the other soldiers seemed to get a boost to their morale, once they saw the man in armour waving around a flaming sword. Whether or not it was caused because they believed in their own abilities after such a display, or because Marcus simply cut such an Impressive figure against the backdrop of general uniformity displayed by both the White Fang and the Atlas soldiers, it really didn't matter to Marcus.

Occasionally, he would catch a glimpse of Winter, out fighting the slowly retreating White Fang, no doubt fuming at him. Once he even managed to get back to back with her, though they didn't stay in such a position for long as more of those magically armoured fighters rejoined the fray and separated them.

Eventually however, the White Fang were pushed back, with Marcus only having to reapply the flames to his blade once. Many were captured, more than Marcus would have thought feasible. And many were killed, more than Marcus was comfortable with.

Winter interrupted his musings, pulling him away from the evaporating frontline of the fight, where she gave him a glare that managed to chill him to the bone. "We will have words." Was the only thing she said as she escorted him back to his room.

 **Alrighty, Authors note again. Howdy everyone.**

 **So big thanks to my first two reviewers, you two are cool.**

 **I've been toying with the idea of making Marcus a sorcerer, as it would be cool to give him the moonlight greatsword, but that really doesn't fit with the who Eleum Loyce thing. If you recall, the charred Loyce knights used pyromancy, I'm gonna use that as my excuse to give it to Marcus.**

 **Yep, no Aura/semblance means bullets hurt. Good thing Marcus is used to hurt. Titanite certainly helps better than any flak vest too.**

 **As for Marcus' semblance, if you've got any ideas lemme know.**

 **So a semi-story has begun to form in my head, I think I'll flesh it out next chapter. Some of it is teased in this chapter though, and I do feel the need to clarify the timeline right now.**

 **This is still a few years before the events of the show. And I'll tell you right now, I don't know if this story will tie in with Beacon. I know I would certainly like it too, as that's where all the cool kids are at, and I've certainly got the power to make it happen, I just don't know how to get us there without it being blatant or stereotypical. So be warned, this might end up being an independent story, or it could tie in. I'm leaning towards tie in, but be aware of all possibilities.**

 **If there was a ship, which there is no guarantees of happening, it would probably be with Winter. But I'm always open to ideas.**

 **To make it easier for myself, we'll say Marcus is around 24 at this point in his life. So there you go, if you were wondering about an exact age.**

 **If you make it all the way here, thanks for reading. You cool.**


	4. Can't Happen Here (3)

The moment the door shut behind them, Marcus removed his helmet and ignited his pyromancy flame once again. He paid no mind to Winter, who was working herself up into and impressive fury. He calmly raised his hand and gestured vaguely into the air, conjuring an orb of calming fire that floated serenely in the air. He pulled a chair towards it and sat down amongst its warmth, letting it heal his wounds.

Winter, very clearly didn't have any idea what was going on or why Marcus was sitting so close to the floating uncontrolled flame. This momentarily stopped her building tirade as she looked quizzically at Marcus, who simply gestured for her to join him.

Cautiously, she approached, and quickly began to grasp what it was that Marcus was doing. The few meager flesh wounds she had sustained during the last few minutes of the battle almost burned away, though the actual burn didn't cause any pain or leave any marks. She looked at Marcus questioningly, now seemingly less angry than she was a few moments ago, allowing her to actually take in the state of the Knight out of time.

Marcus was haggard, his injured shield arm drooped limply while his sword arm held his helmet on his lap. There was copious amounts of blood, both his own and others unfortunate enough to cross him, sprayed across his armor. His breastplate was dented and cracked, and the fur around his shoulders was now a dirty red colour, contrasting its former pure white hue. As the fire pulsed once again, Marcus' injured arm suddenly jolted as if struck by electricity, though no signs of pain flashed across Marcus' face, instead there was an expression of relaxation. Slowly, he brought his formerly injured arm up to his shoulder to casually scratch Mira behind the ears. How the small tiger had managed to stay atop him during combat was entirely beyond Winter.

Finally, after a few moments, Marcus recast his strange semblance, before turning to Winter, now ready for a thorough scolding.

Instead of the angry look he was expecting however, he found one of amazement. "That is truly an impressive semblance, the ability to heal through fire is unheard of." She muttered, still attempting to hold on to her anger, though failing in light of this comparatively more important subject.

"Semblance?" Was the only think Marcus said, raising an eyebrow at the strange word, which once again, seemed to have a different meaning than the definition he was thinking of.

"Yes! Your semblance! That fire in your hand!" Winter seemed ready to continue, but she stopped herself as another thought entered her head. "Wait, how did you get injured? Your aura should have stopped those bullets from hitting you…" She looked at Marcus questioningly now, her anger returning now that she didn't have the answers she wanted.

"Aura?" Was the only thing Marcus said. Smirking slightly, seemingly being intentionally frustrating. He still managed to make sure his question seemed genuine however, so that the conversation didn't get too out of control.

Winter stopped short of her next statement, seemingly shocked, before saying "If that isn't a semblance and you don't know about Aura… What is this?!" She built up her voice until she was practically shouting, while she gestured between the dissipating warmth spell and the pyromancy flame in Marcus' hand.

"This is a Pyromancy Flame, the core tool of any Pyromancer." Marcus replied, "I don't know why you find such a basic tool so strange? Were your… sigils? Not just a form of sorcery?" Marcus referred to Winter's glyphs he had occasionally seen her use that allowed her to fly around the battlefield like some kind of fairy.

Winter didn't immediately respond, instead she very uncharacteristically opened and closed her mouth like a fish. She didn't know what to say in the wake of this information, so instead she simply straightened herself out and reassumed her 'commanding' voice. "Explain to me this Pyromancy."

Marcus blinked, not really expecting that answer. It stunned him that she didn't know about such a well-known practice. "Pyromancy is the act of manipulating fire. It is an art, that leaves master and student-" Winter cut him off excitedly.

"It can be taught?!" She asked in hushed tones, to which Marcus narrowed his eyes and nodded. Winter's eyes widened, before she straightened up and made for the door, calling over her shoulder "The General will be here soon, DON'T leave this room." She hissed before she left, slamming to door behind her.

Marcus blinked, not particularly expecting that reaction. While Pyromancy was certainly impressive, and it wasn't exactly common amongst average people, it was still a widely known art. So why would it cause such a reaction from the usually very composed soldier.

Perhaps their own version of Pyromancy had evolved into something unrecognizable to its original form. Or, perhaps the world has genuinely forgotten how to use the skill. That thought seemed far more frightening, as it meant he was far and away removed from his own time.

True to Winter's word, the General arrived a few moments later. Seemingly as equally furious as Winter, though he still seemed excited about something. Winter must have mentioned his Pyromancy to him. "That was a damn stupid thing for you to do! You could have been killed!" Ironwood barked, frustrated.

Marcus, was finally at the end of his patience. Though a small part of his mind told him to look at the situation from their perspective, a much larger part of him, the part that held his pride, told him to bite back. Marcus launched from his seated position, his helmet clattering to the ground as he stepped forward to confront the suddenly wide eyed General.

"Do you think me so fragile that I would break against such meagre opponents as those 'White Fang?!' Have you walked country to country, surrounded by hostile foes with the only intent to deliver a message, and then to do the same damn thing in order to relay it's reply?! I am not a man who would run from those who would do me, and those I care about, harm! I may be at your mercy General, but do not think for one moment that I answer to you!" Ironwood's eyes narrowed as Marcus' pride abated, letting him look away from the disgruntled duo of soldiers. He took a few steps back and retrieved his helmet before sitting himself back down in his chair.

They sat in an awkward silence for a few moments, Winter fuming at Marcus' tone to the General. Ironwood nodding absently as he thought of all the ways he could prove Marcus wrong. And Marcus simply cooling down from his outburst.

Ironwood knew that while Marcus was technically correct, it wouldn't be hard to forge documents saying that he was in fact, under the General's jurisdiction. It would in fact be very easy. But thankfully, cooler heads tend to prevail when dealing with professionals.

Marcus looked up at Ironwood once again, though this time he lacked the spark of conflict in his eyes. "Forgive me General, you and Winter have been nothing but kind to me. You have saved me from eternity, and I shouldn't repay your kindness with pointless bravado. However, I would appreciate if you would recognize that I am not a mere soldier, but a knight entrusted with some of the most important tasks a king could ever ask of someone."

Marcus seemed sincere, and the General understood that he was trying to ease the tension and throw him a bone. Ironwood sighed and looked down, before once again locking eyes with the Knight. "You are right, but that is exactly the reason we didn't want you to charge into that combat. You are valuable, very valuable." More valuable than the average soldier, as horrible as it was to think. Though it was logically correct. "I was hoping that this offer would come in calmer circumstances, but I guess now is as good a time as any. I want to offer you a position within the Atlas military." The General spoke hopefully.

Marcus, for his part, understood why the offer had come about. It was best to keep your 'valuable' assets as close as possible, and the General had just said he was very, very valuable. He knew it went deeper than that however. Winter and Ironwood weren't bad people; they might have strange tactics and a different view on combat, but that didn't make them inherently wrong or against him. They needn't agree on all things in order to work together. On the flipside, they were probably also doing this to help him. Nothing they had done so far had indicated that they had anything but his best interests at heart, and being under their direct supervision would be a good window to introduce oneself to the world.

Marcus leaned back in his chair while he contemplated the offer, absently stroking the back of Mira as she sat on his lap. This evidently was some kind of faux paw, as a hidden expression passed between Winter and Ironwood before quickly looking back at Marcus with strained faces. Marcus narrowed his eyes at them, causing Winter to crack a small smile which she quickly masked with a quick cough. "What?" He asked, causing Ironwood's face to split openly into an unapologetic smile.

"You look like several stereotypical villain characters from our fiction. What with the armor, and more specifically, the cat." Ironwood spoke, and Winter was clearly trying to stifle laughter. While the humour of the joke went over his head, Marcus was happy that the atmosphere had relaxed. He simply smiled and nodded, before striking an over exaggerated 'evil warlord' posture, leaning forward as he continued to pet Mira lightly with his fingers as he held his by its pommel, pointing it tip down into the floor. This caused the general to start chuckling along with Winter, and Marcus smiled at the sudden levity.

"I accept. With a condition." This quickly brought everyone's attention back to the subject at hand. Even Mira looked up at Marcus questioningly.

"Go on." Ironwood said, narrowing his eyes.

"I want to work directly, or as close to directly, for you as possible. You two are so far the only two people on this world that I can trust, or at least try too anyway." Marcus said, seriously.

Ironwood was relatively happy with the request, as that was already the plan. It would be best to keep him close just in case he had any questions, along with having access to his knowledge quickly. "We can make that work. In fact, if the Specialist doesn't object," Ironwood turned to Winter, who seemed to know that she wouldn't like what was about to be said. "I would assign you to her as her second in command. She can guide you through some of the more technical aspects of our job and answer any questions you might have. And, you have direct access to me through her." Winter nodded, accepting his reasoning. Though Marcus was a little more concerned.

"Would it not make more sense for me to become your direct subordinate?" He asked.

"Winter is my most trusted agent, I won't have enough time to teach you about our time, but Winter is currently in between assignments." Ironwood responded, while Marcus nodded, understanding. "Now, we need to move onto something more important. Winter informs me that you have an ability, Pyromancy. She says it isn't a semblance, and that it is a potentially valuable skill that you can teach." Ironwood let his words trail off, letting Marcus pick up what he was implying.

Marcus seemed hesitant, his eyes flitted between Winter and Ironwood before he spoke. "Yes, that is technically correct. But before you even ask me to teach someone, I must refuse." This caused both soldiers to look at Marcus surprised.

"May I ask why?" Ironwood asked. Marcus looked at him intently, studying his expression. Ironwood didn't seem to feel the need to order him around, maybe his request for mutual respect was actually being respected.

"Teaching someone Pyromancy is a very personal act. It's not a simple sword you practice with. I must make sure the student respects the fire first; that they understand that all flame is something to be nurtured, and even after that, I must give them a part of myself in order to ignite their talent." He ignited his Pyromancy glove, "This was given to me by my teacher, a priestess of Eleum Loyce. She essentially gave me a piece of her soul."

This caused a reaction in the two soldiers, they stiffened, before taking on more sympathetic looks. "I understand. Just understand there would easily be plenty of potential students for you. I would even volunteer myself if I had the time." Ironwood said, ending with a self-deprecating smile.

Marcus returned the smile, happy that they wouldn't force him to teach the art to people he didn't know. He wasn't against spreading the knowledge, but it was reckless usage of Pyromancy that created the Chaos Flame, and he wasn't about to give that power to just anyone.

"Well, I better go make sure the rest of my people are alright, and make sure your paperwork is in order. Winter can bring you up to speed on your new duties. I'll be seeing you soon Marcus." Ironwood spoke, before nodding to Marcus and Winter, and exiting the room.

Marcus looked to Winter and gave her a smug smirk, knowing full well how stressful the day was about to get for both of them. "Does he always dump such strange quests on you, my lady?" He asked, trying to lighten the mood.

It had the desired effect. Winter smirked "No, this is most certainly the strangest. I suppose we should start right away. First off, when we walk out of this room you will refer to me as Ma'am or Specialist. I'm not trying to denigrate you or put myself higher than you, this is simply how it works in our military. I am of a higher rank than you, therefore you will not refer to me as Winter, or Ms. Schnee. I don't mind if you refer to me as such in private, but not openly, it would breed a lax attitude amongst the rank and file that we cannot afford."

Marcus nodded, understanding the position of her words. He didn't agree with them of course, but he wasn't in charge. "Yes Ma'am." He said with a smirk.

Winter continued, "As my second in command, you will obtain the rank of Lieutenant, which is an officer's rank. I don't expect you to begin commanding anytime soon, however it will be important for you to understand who answers to you, and who you answer to that is above me. Lower ranks will refer to you as Sir, and those above you will most likely call you Lieutenant." She stopped, making sure Marcus was keeping up with the barrage of information she was beginning to throw his way.

Marcus simply nodded, finding the concepts easy to grasp. The ranks were simple to adapt from his experience with the Loyce knights.

Winter gestured for him to stand up, "Walk with me, we will help out with the cleanup of the facility while I walk you through everything else you need to know off the top of my head. And after that, we will tackle the question of your aura." She gave him a pointed look, and he simply nodded as he got up to follow her.

The blood and dents in Marcus' armor seemed to have either faded or gone away thanks to his use of Warmth, so he wasn't especially unsightly to the average onlooker. Many of those rushing around however tended to nod in his direction, recognizing him as the man with the flaming sword. He was happy that he had earned at least a modicum of respect from the men and women he would from now on be working with, even if he never saw them again.

Over the next several hours, Winter gave Marcus a crash course on the Atlas military, explaining is doctrines and technology, stopping often to explain to him what seemed like mundane details to Winter. The concept of flight was apparently something Marcus wasn't yet willing to accept, but it was plain to see that the idea that it was possible excited him.

They then moved on to the basics of modern day society. Roughly detailing the four kingdoms, dust, and the Grimm. Dust was a subject he seemed especially interested in, drawing parallels to resins and other items from his time. The seemingly elementary questions had Winter wracking her brain for answers, digging through her faded memories and early education in order to satisfy the man's curiosity.

They were working in the garage, which was where the largest concentration of white fang had attacked the facility, when a few workers came up to them with some questions. Currently, Winter was checking the various lists of accounted for equipment, checking to see what was missing and what wasn't while Marcus was simply carrying around heavy objects. He had removed his breastplate and gauntlets for ease of movement, and his padded jacket was hung open. He seemed significantly more tired than Winter, but whether that was because of her Aura or their very different jobs, Winter didn't really care.

When the workers arrived, Winter moved towards them, assuming they were looking for her as she was the ranking officer. Instead, they simply gave an apologetic look and glanced over to Marcus. Winter nodded, and gestured vaguely for them to continue.

Marcus was sitting down taking a quick break before moving onto something else. He played with Mira, who fought his hand as he tried to pet her. He looked up as the small group of people who came up to him and smiled. "Hello my friends!" He said, happily.

The lead man returned the smile and extended his hand, which Marcus quickly shook. They all introduced themselves, each shaking his hand in turn before the lead man spoke. "Listen, really we came over to say thank you. We were all there when you got pulled out of the ice, so it was a bit of a shock to see you moving, let alone fighting like you did. But that first 'fanger' you took down? He was about to go after one of my buddies, I saw him start to swing before you tackled him. So I guess, thanks…" He finished, extending his hand once again. Marcus accepted, shaking it once again firmly before the conversation switched onto more light hearted topics.

Marcus answered all their questions to the best of his ability, essentially retelling them what he had told Ironwood and Winter, while at the same time telling what seemed to be overly embellished stories of the monsters he had faced. Seemed, being the key word, as he kept a completely serious face when telling them about the fantastical beasts of his era.

Winter, saw no reason to break up their little chat. Ironwood had given no direct order to prevent the spread of information about Marcus, and everyone working here had signed nod disclosure agreements. While there was always the risk of information leaking, that information wasn't especially critical to Atlas' security, even if it was a potentially monumental cultural phenomenon.

She also didn't begrudge Marcus a break, because for all his talk, he didn't have an Aura, meaning he tired far faster than her. It also didn't hurt to get to know the average person you would be working with. It would at least give him more experience with modern day terminology and slang.

She would eventually make sure he acted like his rank required of him. There was only a certain amount of levity she could allow with her subordinates, in order to remain professional. But for now, it was a learning experience. It also would be unlikely that they should mention his new position while still on base, it would simply cause too many questions.

Later, when the workers had returned to their various jobs, seemingly more upbeat than when they had originally approached, Winter moved over to Marcus. "Making friends?" She asked, leaving out any expression so as to provide an example of what she expects of him going forward.

Marcus, simply didn't notice or didn't care about her behavioral expectations, smiling before saying "Yes! I've even been invited some sort of game called 'poker,' do you know of it?" He finished quizzically.

Winter allowed herself to smirk, "Yes I do know of it, though you may not be able to participate. I've signalled for a bullhead to come pick us up. It will be easier for you to become acquainted with everything while we are in Atlas, so that's where we are headed."

Marcus let out an over exaggerated sigh, before nodding in acceptance. He would simply have to learn about this 'poker' at a later date. He did wonder what a bullhead was, Winter had mentioned it previously when she described their method of flight, but the name was confusing to him. Why would a bulls head be capable of flight? And even if it was capable of such impossible acts, how would that be useful?

He mentally shrugged to himself when Winter signalled for him to get back to work, and returned to his menial labour as she switched to the next topic in his education on Remnant. It seemed to him like the largest ideas were covered first, and Winter was slowly working her way to more regional details. She picked up the conversation with the subject of Huntsman. She seemed especially proud of the fact that she was counted amongst the Huntsmen of the world, and Marcus could understand. Everything that she told him he approved of, barring some minor details such as how the Huntsmen are organized.

To him, any fighting force should be organized, which from what he understood, the Huntsmen were most certainly not. They seemed to be by all accounts, high quality mercenaries with some smidgen of moral fibre. They travelled from town to town, dealing with Grimm problems in return for lodgings and pay. It was inefficient, and by all accounts very dangerous. There was no accountability for these rogue warriors, and when he brought up his concerns with Winter, he was happy to note that all Atlesian Huntsmen were part of the military, and under the direct oversight of General Ironwood.

Winter's scroll beeped, interrupting her explanation. It was a notification saying that the bullhead had arrived. She looked over at Marcus, who was looking at her scroll curiously. Winter indicated that he should follow her. "This is a scroll, Marcus." She said, holding up the titular device. "It allows instant communication across the world, as well as hundreds of other uses. It can track your aura level, keep track of the time, give you the location of your friends and family, or send and receive large amounts of information." She continued, giving the rudimentary explanation to the gawking man.

"They must be very valuable, such utility is unheard of! Had they existed during my time they would have changed everything." He looked somber for a moment, before he took on the look of an excited child. "How might I acquire such an invaluable item?"

Winter smirked, "They aren't particularly valuable, and in fact some are disposable. When we reach Atlas we will get you set up with one." She said with a smug look, while Marcus fought to contain his excitement.

They walked outside of the facility, heading towards a cleared away area being used as a rudimentary landing platform. The bullhead was waiting for them around the middle of the ice field. Winter glanced back at Marcus, only to find him to seemingly be looking for something else. She decided not to comment as they approached the bullhead. Its side door opened, causing Marcus to jump slightly, only for him to follow Winter as she walked inside.

He continued to look around confused, growing tenser as the door to the bullhead closed. "Sit down Marcus." Winter said, indicating the seat next to her own. He was conveniently sat next to a window, allowing him full view of the outside.

"I must admit Winter, this wasn't really what I was expecting. This doesn't seem to be the head of a bull." He said, with slight apprehension. Winter merely smirked, and then suddenly they were airborne.

Marcus' eyes widened and he pressed his face against the glass of the Bullhead. Momentarily forgetting where he was and who he was with, he excitedly shot out his hand and grabbed Winter be the arm, shaking her vigorously. Through an ear to ear smile he said "Winter! Winter were flying!"

Winter was slightly envious of the man who now looked more like a big schoolboy than the imposing and skilled knight he purported himself to be. She absently batted away at his hand, though she didn't try very hard. This was very entertaining, and his excitement was infectious. As much as she was loath to do it however, she had to get them back on track. They weren't in any particular rush, but the sooner Marcus gets caught up on the world, the better for everyone.

"Marcus," She said, not getting his attention, as it was transfixed on the quickly moving landscape. "Marcus!" She said again, this time putting authority into her voice. Marcus heard her, but seemingly didn't understand what she meant when he simply gave a dismissive noise in his throat. Finally, Winter simply pulled his arm, making him stumble towards her. Thankfully, it was a simple matter to catch him.

He finally looked at her and gave a sheepish apology, whereas she nodded and smiled knowingly. She could still vaguely remember her own first ride in a bullhead, it had gone much the same way though with a little less unprofessionalism. Her father was always a stickler for family image, even when they were in their own private transport. The thought made her frown, and by proxy made Marcus raise an eyebrow in question. Winter shook her head, both to clear her thoughts and to dismiss the concerned gaze of Marcus.

"We should talk about your aura." Winter stated simply, and Marcus nodded. He still stole glances outside, but his attention was focused on her. "Usually, a huntsman will spend months or years training in order to activate their aura. While there are other methods of activation, such as having an appropriately trained aura wielder activate it for you, we will be going the long way. It will simply give you a better understanding of your own capabilities, and will allow us to practice and retrain you to fit the new strengths you will gain." She said professionally. Marcus didn't seem unhappy with Winter's unilateral decision, in fact he seemed excited. And not just because he was currently flying through the air in a big metal box.

The training, was always something Marcus enjoyed. You got to spend time with people, whether they be teachers, whose experience can serve to better you, or you spend time with friends who go through the same arduous activities that you do. There is nothing to fear from a little work, especially when the eventual outcome is of a higher quality than anyone who takes the faster options, as is almost universally the case.

Winter continued to speak, rambling on about something Marcus was very certain he should be paying attention too. However, the skyline of a magnificent city stole any and all attention he had for anything else. The city was like nothing he had ever seen, it was sprawling, large and busy. Eleum Loyce in all her glory paled in comparison to the metropolis that lay before him.

Atlas, was to say the least, impressive. To outsiders it might appear cold, impersonal or alien. Marcus knew that if he had stayed in Forossa he would never have been able to appreciate the city. But after having spent the greater part of his life in the great white arctic, he could gaze in wonder at the simplicity and utility of every part of the city. No space was wasted, and everything was designed to survive the unrelenting cold. That wasn't even the strangest part however. The presence of greenery astounded him, there were small parks dotted around the metropolis, leaving him speechless.

As they crested a large iceberg, more and more of the city was played out to them. In the distance, a large almost out of place compound sat. As opposed to so much of the city, it was built with style in mind, with practical additions clearly added after its initial construction.

"That's Atlas Academy." Winter pointed out. Marcus only now noticing that she had given up trying to instruct him while he was distracted by such picturesque views. She narrowed her eyes, and pointed out a few more buildings, including the capital building, which was equally as large and grandiose as the academy, and a large manor sitting separate from the city proper. A manor they seemed to be headed towards. Winter sighed, and cursed under her breath before drawing away from the window and walking towards the cockpit.

Marcus didn't catch what was said, but when Winter returned she seemed angry. She cursed again as she took her seat before muttering to Marcus. "Are you ready to meet my 'father?'" She clearly wasn't excited by the prospect.

Marcus, had so far seen nothing but kindness from Winter, and an authoritative personality that he could respect. So he wasn't happy to see her fuming like this. "I didn't realise we were getting so close my lady." He responded with a smirk. Winter by way of response punched him lightly in the side of the arm. Though she may have conveniently 'forgotten' that he didn't have any aura and she did. So Marcus was effectively pushed into the next seat. He was happy about one thing however, he did manage to get her to smile.

 **Alrighty everybody it's me again, Mr. Authors Note.**

 **So, it feels like that whenever I see either Winter or Ironwood in fanfiction, they seem to be very large pricks. That's simply a disservice to both characters. Ironwood isn't standoffish, set in his ways to be sure, but willing to accept outside ideas as long as they are presented in a reasonable way. That's why he comes into conflict with Ozpin so much, as Ozpin just flat out refuses to explain himself beyond what he perceives as necessary, even when asked for clarification. Winter, is not the mega-bitch some people seem to think she is. She simply has an image to uphold.**

 **As to the general levity between Marcus, Winter and Ironwood, you need to realise that their relationship's weren't built off of reputation or prestige. Winter and Ironwood were effectively the first people Marcus talked too when he woke up, so he would most certainly treat them as friends, whereas they understand that they don't need to put up a front in front of Marcus as he neither knows nor cares about their social position. They can be comfortable around him because he is effectively the only person that has no reason to betray them or spread lies about them. Which is what I hoped to portray in this chapter.**

 **And of course, they are all adults. Therefore they handle their problems like adults. Instead of refusing to help one another or intentionally antagonize each other, they work out the issue and move forward. This entire concept was a major problem I had with Ozpins little club, they were conflicting personalities that never tried to look for a middle ground.**

 **So yeah, there you go. Tangent about my own frustrations with other story tellers is now complete.**

 **So I hope we all enjoyed this chapter, if you have any suggestions feel free to let me know, as always I'm all ears. As time goes on I'm getting a better idea of what I want out of this story, and I hope that shows in the chapters going forward. I'll be shooting for a minimum wordcount of 5k per chapter, and if I go over that, hooray. Along with that, I'll be trying to get a chapter out at least once a week, but if I can get a chapter finished before then, I'll put it up. No sense waiting around in my eyes.**

 **If you've made it this far, thanks for reading. You cool.**

 **As for you themaskedswordsman, you're my main man. Thanks for the reviews. And YEET, whoever you are, count yourself up there with thesmaskedswordsman.**


	5. Man on the Silver Mountain (4)

The door opened, and Winter wiped her smile off her face. She stood up and straightened herself out, putting on her most proper attitude for the quickly approaching welcoming party. She stepped off the bullhead, letting Marcus follow a step and a half behind her.

Marcus surveyed the few members of the household that had approached them, trying to gauge why Winter was so unhappy with this detour. He understood not being happy with being delayed, but she had made no mention of that being the main cause of her distress.

The approaching group consisted of two children, two men who appeared to be household guards, and a stocky man Marcus had originally thought was Winter's maligned father. As they got closer however, it wasn't hard to recognise the signs of a household servant.

"Lady Winter! It is lovely to see you once again." The servant said, jovially.

"Hello Klein." Winter replied, managing to spare the servant a smile. Her eyes travelled to her sister and brother. Her sister looked like she didn't know whether to be happy or angry to see her, and her brother wasn't really old enough yet to really know what was going on. "Hello Weiss," She inclined her head to her sister, "And hello to you too Whitely." She did the same for her brother.

Marcus simply stood silently beside her, wallowing in the awkwardness that had suddenly befallen the Schnee family. He glanced at the two guardsman who had accompanied the three others, only to find them in much the same situation as he was. They unfortunately seemed used to such exchanges, minutely rolling their eyes at the strained family. They caught his look, and shot him a smirk that told him everything he needed to know about his upcoming visit to the Schnee family's estate. He wasn't going to like it.

The moment dragged on for a few more uncomfortable moments before Klein cleared his throat and spoke once again. "A-and who is this… fine young man behind you?" As he spoke he directed an apologetic look to Marcus, trying to ease the familial tension by shifting the focus to him.

Winter began to speak, but Marcus beat her to the punch. "I am Sir Marcus Antony, pleasure to meet you all." He stepped past Winter, much to her dismay, and extended his hand first to Klein, then the two younger Schnees, and finally, much to everyone's surprise, the two guardsmen. Smiling warmly all the while.

Winter shot him a glare which he couldn't see, while at the same time, Klein returned his smile, happy to see that he was still capable of meeting generally friendly people. Weiss, surprised everyone by speaking up. "Are you a Hunstman?" She asked, staring up at him. She couldn't have been older than fourteen, but the resemblance to her sister was uncanny.

Marcus weighed his words, he wasn't technically a huntsman, but he was being prepared to become one. He would never claim to have experience with children, let alone teenagers, so he didn't really know how to approach the question. He glanced back at Winter before replying softly, "Of a sorts, and I have many a tale I could tell you about my exploits, and many more of your sister! If you'd like, I could tell you some later?" He felt a little patronizing with his words and tone, but Wiess didn't seem to mind at the moment as she nodded with restrained excitement. He turned his gaze to Whitley, wordlessly giving the same invitation to him. He simply nodded absently.

Winter looked astonished, whereas Klein was refreshed to see someone being kind to the Schnee siblings. Winter cleared her throat, intent on getting the conversation back on track. "Why are we here Klein?" She said coolly.

Klein looked up at her apologetically before saying slightly timidly "Your father wished to see you. About what I'm not sure, but he demanded that you be redirected here so he could talk to you." He looked at his feet for a moment, before perking up again. "Well, he has waited this long, so I think he can wait a little longer. Just so long as we keep it between us, yeah?" He gave everyone a little wink, and the two guardsmen chuckled. "Come on in, I'm sure you'd prefer to catch up inside and out of the cold. I'll prepare some refreshments.

Winter nodded, and followed the servant and her siblings inside. Marcus hung back and asked the two retreating guardsmen, "Are they always like that?" They turned to look at him, then at each other, before they shrugged.

"More so since Winter left, good luck." They gave him a smirk which he scoffed good naturedly at before they returned to their duties. Leaving Marcus to follow the Schnee's inside.

The building was already impressive from the outside, but its interior was obviously designed to impress. Wood was mixed with stonework and polished to an almost impossible sheen and dyed the colors of winter. It was beautiful, but rather gloomy and lifeless. Decorative suits of armor were spaced out amongst the halls, flanking fancy armoires or end tables. Servants flitted about, moving almost unseen throughout the mansion as Marcus speed walked to catch up with the main group. It all built up to an impressive gloss, but with no real substance, nothing to make the household feel warm.

Finally catching up, Marcus was once again subjected to an awkward silence made all the more infuriating thanks to large smile less family portraits hung on the walls. They reminded him of some of the paintings he had seen in Drangleic or Mirrah, but without any of the cheer or love. They simply put him in a bad mood.

Finally, Klein directed them to a large room, which was apparently used by the family to relax. It was well furnished with artsy divans and reclining chairs. As opposed to the polished blues of the halls, this room was a much nicer dark wood brown. Across one wall of the room, a large selection of wines and other various alcoholic bottles were placed like a honeycomb against the wall. Just next to that, sat a well maintained but apparently seldom used bar.

As Marcus was looking around, Winter and her siblings were getting reacquainted. Whitley greeted her cordially, as his father had taught him too, not really seeing any reason to go any further than that. That hurt Winter more than she was willing to admit, but she swallowed that emotion in the face of an angrier sibling. Weiss had decided to be angry with her, and she knew the reason. By joining the military Winter had effectively abandoned her to fend for herself against their father. Winter could just barely handle Whitley's indifference, but she never wanted to hurt Wiess.

Marcus was irked by the family's _properness_ towards one another. They should act like they loved one another, not like they were right now. Though maybe it was his presence that was causing such issues, perhaps they simply wanted to keep up a proper persona in the face of a stranger? He would have left the room at the thought, but he knew he shouldn't go anywhere without Winter. So he really didn't know what he should do. He was more than a little lost, considering who he was and what was going on.

He could deal with political matters, monsters of the most terrifying and dangerous calibre, long journeys, and physical labour. But family matters that he had no stake in beyond wanting his friend to be happy were completely beyond him. It didn't help that his own experiences with his family had been nothing but positive. His father was a good rolemodel, his mother was the kindest person he had ever known, and his siblings were some of the greatest people he had ever known.

The thought made him frown. His family had long since fallen to madness and died. He could only pray that they hadn't been afflicted with the curse of the undead. That wasn't a malady he would wish on his worst enemy. And not just because they became undying. This was beginning to make him irrationally mad, but he knew that none of this was Winter's fault. At least, he knew that she didn't deserve to have his anger directed at her at this very moment.

Klein re-entered, thankfully jolting him from his none too happy thoughts. He came in with a veritable menagerie of drinks for the trio of Schnees as well as one for himself and one for Marcus, who stood a bit apart from the Schnee siblings. He sidled up next to Marcus, seemingly concerned for the troubled Schnee's, though he knew it really wasn't his place to intervene, so he contented himself with being a comforting presence.

Marcus sniffed his drink, and found it vaguely alcoholic, though somehow fruity at the same time. He glanced at Klein, who gave him a knowing look that spoke volumes of his thoughts on the reasons for their visit. Marcus nodded in thanks, interested to see how this time's drinks compared to his owns, before sipping at the drink, widening his eyes and just barely restrained himself from downing the incredible concoction. Klein seemed quite pleased with himself.

The Schnee's continued to simply stare at one another, neither touching their drinks nor voicing their issues. A large grandfather clock ticked away in the corner, counting down the awkward moments with annoying precision. At this point, Marcus was getting ready to slap one of them, if just to get them talking or to shift their anger onto him and not each other. Winter could just barely meet Weiss' eyes, though it took all of her self-control to do so. She was still in contact with her younger siblings, but she hadn't visited since she had joined Atlas academy.

Finally, a servant rushed in and spoke quickly to Winter, "Your father wishes to see you now." She said with a detached professionalism. It didn't make the situation any better. Winter shot Marcus a look saying 'don't do anything stupid' before standing up and following the servant out of the room.

Marcus looked about for a moment, Weiss looked at him expectantly, and Whitley sat politely, though disinterestedly. With a quick mental shrug, Marcus sat down in the chair Winter had previously occupied, marvelling at its cushioning. Everyone lived in such luxury in the future. He gave both children a kind smile and said, "I do believe I owe you a story, though I'm not sure how much time we will have."

Weiss smiled back, though it was a cold, professional kind of smile, no warmth to be seen. "Father will be occupied with Winter for quite some time, so I believe we have all the time you need to tell us your 'story.'" It wasn't hard for Marcus too see that she was excited, much like he was whenever the Loyce knights rode in parades during his own childhood. Though she was much more subdued, like she believed she wasn't allowed to express herself beyond being simply 'polite.'

Marcus nodded, and pulled Mira into his lap so he could pet her while he told his semi-fictitious story. He wanted to give her a real story, something that he had done that he would consider a great deed. But he was only a simple messenger. He had fought his share of demons, but if you truly wanted a glorious story you should speak to those who are glorious. Marcus would never consider himself worthy of the same regard that he held other knights in, but he had his share of adventures he could regale the young Schnee with, even if they were a little twisted.

"Alright then, but first, we must set the stage. My original occupation was that of a messenger. I would walk from country to country, gathering information and then returning to my homeland to make sure my people were kept up with the events of the world. At this time, I was young," He smirked, "Well, I was younger than I am now, let's not talk about me like I'm old. I had just left the walls of my beloved city, for the first time since I was knighted, and it was cold. I'm sure you both think you know what it is like to be cold, having grown up here in Atlas. But nothing could have compared to this _bone chilling_ blizzard I was caught in."

He dramatically shivered to add effect, while absently igniting his pyromancy flame, causing both Schnee's eyes to widen. "It was so cold, I thought that death had claimed me. I thought I would wander this blinding blizzard for the rest of my miserable life, numb to all feeling and frost bitten beyond recognition." He let the fire in his hand dim until there was merely a spark sitting timidly in his palm. "I had almost given up hope, to make matters worse, the howls of cursed undead constantly-" Weiss held up a palm.

"Undead? You can't be serious?" She spoke, deadpan. Marcus just smirked and continued.

"Yes, my lady. Undead. Cursed men and women afflicted with the terrible Dark Sign. Driven to madness through immortality, constantly hunted down and killed for sport, only for them to rise again, closer to insanity. Many were cast from the walls of my city, left to wander the wastes for eternity, or until they eventually became merely husks of who and what they were. Once proud knights would become hollow, empty shells of my friends and family." He looked down sadly, no hint of deceit on his face.

"They constantly berated me, like they cursed me for allowing them to be abandoned. Even though they submitted willingly, knowing the dangers of losing one's mind, losing oneself so completely that they cannot recognize friend from foe, mother from demon. I could feel them close at my heels, I could hardly run, and I knew it would be a losing battle against the immortal throng if I turned to fight." Both Weiss and Whitley seemed disturbed by his description, it seemed to hit a little too close to home. Perhaps a relative of theirs had been afflicted with the curse, Marcus thought.

"But as always, destiny seemed to have other plans for me. Two great smoky black beasts bounded from the blizzard, hardly fazed by the relentless cold. They stood taller than this room and even the one above that. One, gave me a look that shook me to the core, I was afraid already, but something about this beast terrified me." The spark in his hand had slowly and steadily begun to reinvigorate itself, now around the size of a large candle.

"However, it wasn't there for me. It took its one look at me, and bounded off into the blizzard, rejoining its sibling in its hunt. I heard the sounds of clashing steel, growling and howling. But no Undead harried me in my mission any longer. The blizzard, mercifully, began to die down. I had survived another day. When I had completed my mission, and returned to my king, I informed him of the great beasts that lay as hunters in the frigid wastes. My King simply smiled and said, 'you are a fortunate soul to look upon Lud and Zallen and yet live, Marcus Antony. Were you any other man, they would have torn you to pieces. A mercy, so that you may not suffer the fate of so many who froze out in the wastes.'" Finally the Flame reignited into its full glory, covering most of his hand, before Marcus dismissed it entirely.

"I hope I've not disappointed you, with the story of one of the most harrowing moments of my life?" He asked with a small smile. Weiss didn't really seem to believe any of it, but the younger Schnee, Whitley seemed to simply enjoy being told a story.

"Where are you from Marcus, where all of this is possible? I mean, you meet giant Grimm, in a raging blizzard and survive? Undead? I thought you were going to tell us about a particularly dangerous Grimm or something…" Weiss asked, curiously.

"Eleum Loyce, and before you say anything, no you haven't heard of it. Nor would I expect anyone too. It's a place long lost to time." He raised an eyebrow, expecting more questions such as 'how do you know of this place then?' But they didn't come, instead, Weiss was looking above him at the two figures who had just entered the room.

Winter had returned, looking particularly rigid and controlled. Her meeting with her father must have gone poorly, Marcus lamented to himself. He still couldn't wrap his head around whatever issue was that the Schnee family had, but he supposed that he had only been here for a little over an hour. It simply frustrated him to see someone he respected so upset about the people she was supposed to rely on.

The other figure was the same servant that had called Winter out of the room. Marcus glared at her, though he knew that she didn't really deserve his ire. She was simply doing her duty, however she did provide a good outlet for his anger.

Winter strode up to him, and briskly muttered, "My father wishes to see you. Answer his questions but don't offer anything he doesn't ask for." She spoke quietly, so that her two younger siblings had to lean forward to try and eavesdrop. Whitley tried, but it wasn't hard for his inexperience to be noticed. Winter shot him a glare, which simply caused him to shrug before leaning back.

Marcus simply nodded and let the servant lead the way. Winter meanwhile, reassumed her seat and gave Weiss a long look. Despite her feelings of anger, the younger girl seemed to shrink ever so slightly under her older sister's gaze.

The servant silently led Marcus deeper into the mansion, where the decorations seemed to get more and more sparse. Marcus wondered if this was even the Schnee's home, as it seemed everything up to this point had been designed to show off and impress any visitors. But when you looked deeper it really didn't seem that lived in. Who knows, maybe the servants were simply very good at their job.

Marcus had already been wary of Winter's father before he had been summoned, but now he was simply on edge. They approached an ornate wooden door, which opened, revealing a large well-appointed office. Behind a large seemingly expensive desk, sat a tall, white haired man with a well-groomed mustache. Marcus walked into the room apprehensively, a fact that the seemingly inattentive man caught.

With a hidden smirk, Jacque Schnee stood up from his desk, moved around it in a few movements and outstretched his hand towards Marcus. All the while speaking with the voice of a practiced socialite. "The man out of time! Truly this is a momentous occasion. Please come, sit and we will talk." After shaking the man's hand, Jacque directed him to a chair sitting opposite his own desk chair. As Marcus went to sit down, the Schnee patriarch prepared two glasses of whiskey, complete with exactly two ice-cubes. As he turned around to step back towards his desk, Marcus spoke up.

"I hope this isn't rude, but how do you know who I am?" Marcus asked, eyes narrowed. He didn't suppose he could be confused with someone else who happened to be from another time, it was a pretty unique scenario to be in. However, he also didn't know how this man could possibly know about him.

"General Ironwood gave a statement to the media that they found someone alive buried under the ice that the military was clearing in order to create a new facility. Though he never went beyond that. It is a good thing I have my own sources of information then, huh?" Jacque smiled and slid one of the two glasses he held over to Marcus, who made a note to watch out for any potential spies. He was hoping that he wouldn't have to worry about these kinds of things in the future, but he supposed that the presence of military and terrorist groups should have tipped him off that things hadn't really changed since his day.

"I'm getting ahead of myself however, my name is Jacque Schnee. You've already met my children I can see. And while I'm eager to get to talking about you and your history, I would like to know why you are travelling with my daughter?" A hint of danger flashed across Jacque's eyes, but it was quickly smothered by a polite smile. Marcus thought it was a pretty stupid question, though he didn't give any visual clues to indicate that.

"She is my military escort, she is introducing me to this… time. Helping me get adjusted to my new life before they start questioning me about my old one." Marcus said, returning Jacque's disingenuous smile.

Jacque nodded, accepting the answer at face value, which Marcus was happy for. He had no problem with the Schnee patriarch as of yet, but there was most certainly something about him that set him off. Everything about him seemed the antithesis of the nobility in Forossa, he seemed more of a man of Miraah, as opposed to anyone respectable. The nobles of Forossa never shirked from their duty, even if they went about their various tasks in almost constant conflict with one another. They got down in the dirt like everyone else and worked if needed. But Jacque didn't seem to have a single callous on his perfectly manicured hand, and that irked the Loyce knight for some primal reason.

Jacque went on to ask him about his homeland, to which Marcus replied with all of the information he had already given to Ironwood and Winter. However, the man was persistent and curious. He effectively squeezed Marcus of any information, miniscule or otherwise, for some as of yet unknown agenda. Marcus wasn't afraid to answer his questions, choosing to give him the benefit of the doubt, out of respect for him as Winter's father.

"I've been meaning to ask, did you have Faunus in your time?" Jacque asked innocuously. Marcus squinted, though not out of suspicion. Faunus? Perhaps it was another word that had changed its meaning since his day. Though it probably referred to something different than simply 'fauna' considering it seemed that Jacque was asking about a specific group of things.

"Faunus?" Marcus asked simply, voicing his confusion.

"Yes, men and women born with a physical aspect of an animal." Jacque elaborated, raising an eyebrow at Marcus' confusion, though just assuming that he used a different word.

Marcus wondered for a moment, before nodding. "Yes I suppose we did. Forossa had great Lion knights, some of the fiercest warriors to ever grace our world. Though I never had the pleasure of conversing with one, I'm sure they would have had night unbelievable stories to tell." Marcus sipped at his brandy, once again marvelling at the advancement in culinary and alcoholic technology, before continuing to speak. "They were effectively bipedal lions, savage to be sure, but there was a sort of sophistication to them that lent themselves to Forossan service. Other than that, we had a veritable menagerie of animal men, even actual animals that seemed more intelligent than you or I!" He finished with a light chuckle.

Jacque couldn't bring himself to join in on Marcus' humour, but the knight didn't seem to notice. He knew some of the things that Marcus had been telling him sounded fantastical, but he was willing to accept it at face value. After all, what reason would Marcus have, and by extension Ironwood have, for lying to the entirety of Remnant like this? It was a lot of risk for what seemed like very little reward.

He did know that Ironwood had managed to persuade Marcus into joining the Atlesian military. A fact Jacque found insulting. Marcus was such an important source of knowledge that it was simply stupid to put him in situations where he would be in danger! He was sure Ironwood had his reasons of course, that man never did anything without a plan, and he went to great lengths to make sure his men had the greatest survivability chance possible. The updated mechs the SDC was designing for the military would be able to replace hundreds of soldiers in the field after all.

His eyes narrowed as he glanced at his computer monitor, which was flashing with an alert from one of his moles inside the military. Once he read it, his eyes widened. "Well I thank you for your time, but as unfortunate as it is, I must cut this meeting short. I hope you understand." Jacque gave Marcus a polite smile, and the other man nodded before rising out of his seat.

Jacque followed, and shook his hand once again before escorting him to the door. Before he left however, he placed his hand on Marcus' shoulder, causing the Knight to turn and face him once again. "If I understand it correctly, you'll be Winter's second in command?" Jacque lowered his voice and squeezed the shoulder plate of Marcus' armour. The fact that Marcus was not only armoured but also armed, didn't seem to faze him.

Marcus' eyes widened, but he nodded, not denying it. Jacque returned the nod, and for the first time since Marcus had met the man, he hesitated. "Keep her safe, she is _my_ daughter." Jacque said, in a rare moment of fatherly affection.

Despite what some ungrateful children might think, he did love them all. He recognized that they might not agree with his methods of parenting, physical or otherwise, but as long as they were tough, safe, and prepared to carry on the family legacy, Jacque could die a happy man. Winter joining the military not only angered him, as she had renounced any claim to her heritage beyond her name, but the constant knowledge that she was being put in danger, fighting Grimm or otherwise, caused him no end of worry. To think that Weiss wanted to follow in her deluded sister's footsteps and become a huntress not only infuriated him even more, considering she should have been focusing on her business studies, but he didn't want to lose two daughters. And he most certainly didn't want what happened between him and Winter to happen between him and Weiss. His only solace was Whitley, who seemed very focused on following in Jacque's own footsteps, a fact for which he was eternally grateful.

Marcus merely nodded, and the hardness in his eyes gave Jacque a good impression of how seriously the knight took his promises. With that, Jacque released his grip on Marcus' shoulder, allowing the man to exit his office. With a huff, Jacque buried his familial emotions so he could return to his work.

 **Alright so, Authors note again.**

 **I feel like I could have done this chapter better, and I can only hope things get better from here on out. Problem is, a combination of school and finally getting a job has pearl harboured me hard. I'm not sleeping as much as I'm used too, and I'm busier, so I don't have as much time to think about stories as I'd like. So I'm sorry if my schedules get screwed up and chapters come out late. I don't want to abandon this, but life comes first, so if I've got to leave this in the dust for a while in order to sort myself out, I will.**

 **I'm not sure how much I'll be using cannon characters as that requires me to stay true to a pre-established character that I am not intimately familiar with. Time will tell.**

 **Jacque never struck me as a particularly malignant person. He is a prime example of Authoritarian parenting, that being the hole 'do as I say, and trust that I am right and do ask why' shtick. And while it is implied he might have been abusive, especially considering the slap he delivers to Weiss, most think of him as heartless and only out for himself. But just because he hit's his kids doesn't mean he doesn't love them. People did it all the time back in the day, didn't mean they didn't love their children any less.**

 **Now before we even start, I'm not defending hitting kids, that's not cool, but that doesn't mean a fictitious character can't think it's A OK.**

 **If you made it this far, thanks for reading. You cool.**

 **Also, this chapter was around 4200 words, so a little short of my minimum, but I wanted to get it out, and it seemed like a good place to end off. Will try for 5000 next chapter, which should be easier since I don't have to worry about all this heavy conversation.**


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